The Fifth Year Howlers
by Norbert for President
Summary: *Chapter 8 now up* Harry Potter deals with his frustration by sending Voldemort a howler. Rated PG for Harry's scary yodelling!
1. Hormones and Harry

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me! All Harry Potter characters, etc., belong to J.K. Rowling and if you believe the weird copyright things they also belong to Warner Bros., but I'm only going to acknowledge J.K. Rowling because she is a wonderful and imaginative woman and Warner Bros. stole her idea. Well, bought it, but it's all relative, Watson.  
  
A/N: OK, here is another typically weird story for you all to enjoy?! Please review! Pleeeeeeeease?! ( Oh, and Harry and Hermione are staying at the Burrow - it's late summer holidays.  
  
THE FIFTH-YEAR HOWLERS by Norbert for President (Head of the Leprechaun Society, Honorary Mushroom, Fake Order of Merlin - First Class (well, naturally), and Randomly Mad Individual)  
  
Chapter One: Hormones and Harry  
  
Lord Voldemort was getting on Harry Potter's fifteen year old nerves. So young Harry thought that to compensate, he would get on everyone else's nerves. And everyone included Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger.  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'Yes, we KNOW Harry, we know he annoys you.'  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'Yes, Harry, we KNOW! Now shut up!'  
  
'But he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!' screamed Ron.  
  
'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!' screamed Hermione.  
  
'If he annoys you so much, Harry, DO SOMETHING about it. OK? Only DON'T tell us about it. Scream at him or something. Send him some of Snape's toad guts. Curse him. But DON'T TELL US about it.' said Ron.  
  
'Now there's an idea!' said Hermione, exasperated. 'Just . . . just shut up about it.'  
  
'But what can I really actually do to annoy him. Because I have to do something because this is really ANNOYING me!'  
  
'Yes. We know. We know only too well.' said Hermione, breathing rather fast through her nose, à la Professor McGonagall.  
  
'But what can I DO about him?'  
  
'Work it out for yourself, mate,' said Ron, unsympathetically. 'Or you could come and play Quidditch.'  
  
'Yeah. Yeah. I'll come and play Quidditch. But he ANNOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'We know Harry. Believe me, we really do know.'  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny all trooped out to play Quidditch on the small paddock outside the Burrow surrounded by tall trees. And all was going well for Harry's side. Except that the star player was too ANNOOOOOYED to concentrate. And missed the Snitch completely. Several times.  
  
'Harry, what's wrong with you?' asked Fred, after Harry had missed the Snitch which had this time actually perched on top of his glasses.  
  
'Don't ask!' said Ron and Hermione in unison.  
  
'He's ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOYED.' Said Hermione.  
  
'Why?'  
  
But Ron just rolled his eyes in reply. Meanwhile, a switch had been flicked inside Harry's brain. A rather faultily-wired switch, but a switch nonetheless. And consequently, Harry Potter, celebrity and moron, had had an Idea. Not a brilliant idea, but come on, it counts for something.  
  
'I know!' began Harry.  
  
'What?' asked Hermione.  
  
'I've forgotten,' said Harry, dejectedly. But two minutes later . . .  
  
'I know!'  
  
'What?' asked Ron.  
  
'I've forgotten.' But two minutes later . . .  
  
'I'LL SEND HIM A HOWLER!' Harry bellowed, falling off his Firebolt. 'Whoops!' he muttered dazedly before picking himself up and taking himself into the Burrow.  
  
'Mrs. Weasley . . . ?'  
  
'Yes, Harry dear?'  
  
'Can I write a Howler?'  
  
'All right, dear.' said Mrs. Weasley, looking slightly worried. 'The envelopes are in that cupboard there.'  
  
Harry went over to the cupboard, opened it, and took out an envelope.  
  
'Er . . . Harry, that's just a normal envelope actually. Howlers are red, remember?'  
  
'Oh yes,' said Harry vaguely, choosing a pink envelope instead.  
  
'No, red.'  
  
'Oh,' said Harry, finally choosing the correct envelope. 'What are pink ones for?'  
  
Mrs. Weasley turned vermillion and began stuttering and giggling. Harry left the room, clutching his red envelope, and didn't ask Mrs. Weasley any further questions. Unfortunately this was because he had forgotten he asked one, not because he possessed a discernible amount of tact. Harry took the envelope up into Ron's bedroom, and prodded it with his wand. The envelope exploded.  
  
'Whoops,' was the pearl of wisdom that now dropped from the mouth of our favourite black-haired hero.  
  
So silly little Harry pootled off downstairs to get another one. He took a red envelope from the cupboard. Mrs. Weasley was still there fanning herself and giggling, but now only crimson. Harry looked at her concernedly, decided not to comment, and went off in search of Hermione, who, he was sure, would know how to send a Howler.  
  
'Um, Hermione?'  
  
'Yes Harry. We know he ANNOOOOOOOOOYS you.'  
  
'That wasn't what I was going to say. Though he does ANNOOOOOOOOY me.'  
  
'Shut up! We know! What were you going to say?'  
  
'Erm . . .' (two minutes later) 'Oh, I know!' said Harry looking down at the red envelope in his hand. 'How do you send Howlers?'  
  
'OK . . .' said Ron.  
  
'OK . . .' said Hermione.  
  
'How do you send them?'  
  
'Well, you have to scream really loudly to start it off and then you can shout everything you want to say, and then you close it. That's all there is to it, really.' Said Ron, worriedly.  
  
'Oh. OK. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' shouted Harry.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' shouted Hermione. 'Not near ME!'  
  
'Yeah, go away Harry! Don't shout in our ears!'  
  
Harry gave no sign of having heard, so Ron and Hermione ran off.  
  
Harry started screaming.  
  
'I HAAAAAAAAAAAAATE YOU! YOU'RE HOOOOOOOOOOORRIBLE! KEEP AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU REALLY REALLY ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME!'  
  
Harry continued in this vein for quite some time. Unfortunately, he then forgot who he was shouting at, and asked, 'Who are you?', quite calmly, which kind of reduced the dramatic effect, like, y'know. And as he couldn't remember who he was howling at, he decided to sing instead.  
  
'YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' bellowed Harry. 'YODEL-EH-I- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!'  
  
Then he remembered what he was doing. 'Oh yes!' he shouted, then carried on. 'I HATE YOU! GO AWAY! DIE DIE DIE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOY ME!'  
  
He then shut the envelope and tried to give it to Hedwig. Unfortunately, she was too traumatised by his shouting, and ran away from him. The same happened with Errol. And Hermes. But Harry thought they couldn't send it because it wasn't addressed. So he went and found a quill and began to write.  
  
He thought he'd write 'Lord Voldemort' but he just couldn't get it to look right. So he tried to write 'You-Know-Who', but got a bit confused. So he tried to write 'Tom Riddle', but he wasn't SURE he'd got that one right either. So he finally settled for a word he could spell, 'freak'.  
  
The envelope, now covered in scratchy writing and ink-blots, read, 'Voldermoort; Vldemourt; Yoo No Hoo; Tomm Riddel' and finally, in big, black, triumphant capitals, 'FREAK'.  
  
Proudly, Harry gave the red envelope to the only owl in the house who was too stupid to be scared of him. Pig. The little owl flew off into the sky. And Harry waited. Waited for a reply.  
  
  
  
A/N: I'll put another chapter up soon if people like this. Please review! 


	2. A somewhat worrying reply

Disclaimer: Um, Harry Potter still belongs to J.K. Rowling. Harry Potter's stupidity belongs to me though was probably inherited from someone in the Potter/Evans family. And Bob the Builder belongs to someone too, though as I DO NOT ACTUALLY WATCH IT I don't know who! Sorry! (and people who have the good fortune not to have heard of him, he's written a song which Voldemort seems to like. But you're not missing much. Well, actually, Pilchard, his blue cat, is pretty cool, but apart from that).  
  
  
  
Cbapter Two: A somewhat . . . worrying reply  
  
A black owl swooped through the window of the Burrow in the early hours of the morning, dropped something in front of Harry Potter, and swooped back out. This 'something' was an envelope. A bright red envelope. A smoking envelope.  
  
*Suspicious* thought our hero, who had been woken up by one of the owl's feathers tickling his nose on its way out. He leant down and saw that it was addressed to him. The sender could, in fact, spell 'Harry Potter'. But this hadn't stopped them writing 'MORON' in glowing capital letters as well. The envelope then burst into flames. And a loud voice started shouting. A high voice. A cold voice. An evil voice.  
  
A voice that was bizarrely singing: 'Gonna get yer. Gonna eat yer.'  
  
'OH!' said clever little Harry out loud. 'It's a HOWLER.'  
  
Yes. It was indeed a howler. And whoever had sent it was now bellowing at the top of his or her voice.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! LESS OF THE YODELLING! I HATE YOU POTTER! AND I'M GOING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! YES! MWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! YODEL-EH-I- OOOOOO!'  
  
This was interrupted by several Weasleys, all in pyjamas with messy red hair, and Hermione who had entered Harry's bedroom, somewhat . . . mystified by the noise and the initial scary singing.  
  
'Erm . . . Harry?' began Fred.  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' shouted Harry, still listening to the Howler.  
  
'Harry, what is . . . ?' began George.  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'Harry, who . . . ?' began Mrs. Weasley.  
  
But Harry was too deep in listening to the very very noisy Howler. Which was still screaming. 'I'M GOING TO GET YOU! I'M GOING TO GET YOU POTTER! AAAAAAAAAAARGH! FOOL! FOOOOOL! MWAH HA HA HA HA! I HOPE YOU LIKE THE PRESENT I'M SENDING YOU SOON! COS I'M GOING TO GET YOU HARRY! SO YOU'D BETTER WATCH OUT!'  
  
'Harry, you didn't actually send You-Know-Who a howler, did you?' asked Hermione, shouting over the noise coming from it. Voldemort had reverted to his 'Gonna get yer. Gonna eat yer!' song again. It was actually quite well sung, and in tune and everything, but no-one was exactly listening or appreciating that.  
  
'Um . . . yeah.'  
  
'Harry! You idiot! Why?'  
  
'Because he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'Uh . . . Hermione, PLEASE don't start that again!' interjected Ron, desperately.  
  
'He really, really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'Harry, SHUT UP!' shouted Hermione.  
  
'OK. But he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' shouted Hermione.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' shouted Ron.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' shouted Fred.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' shouted George.  
  
Then all four of them looked at Ginny expectantly. However, Ginny was busy humming the tune to 'His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad' and wasn't really paying attention.  
  
The Howler, however, was still going strong. 'I'M GOING TO KILL YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU! BECAUSE ODDLY ENOUGH, YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! LEARN TO SPELL! LEARN TO WRITE! BOB THE BUILDER! CAN HE FIX IT? BOB THE BUILDER! IF IT'S HARRY'S BRAIN HE BLOODY WELL CAN'T!'  
  
Hermione looked quite traumatized. 'You-Know-Who watches Bob the Builder?' she asked, worried.  
  
'Apparently so,' said Fred, looking awed.  
  
'Who IS Bob the Builder?' asked Ron, puzzled.  
  
'Shut up, Ron,' said George, listening to the Howler, which was now yodelling quite tunefully.  
  
'YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YODEL-EH-I-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! WHAT DOES HARRY KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW? NOT AS MUCH AS MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'  
  
'He's a poet and he didn't know it!' said Ron, impressed.  
  
'Hey, Ron, lets speak in rhyme all the time!' said Hermione, suddenly.  
  
'All right . . .' said Ron, looking worried.  
  
'That doesn't rhyme, or even chime!' said Hermione.  
  
'Well, Ron is mad and rather sad,' said Fred, who seemed to have got the hang of the rhyming thing.  
  
'Oh no I'm not, you stupid . . . pot?' replied Ron, disturbed.  
  
'What? What? What? I'm not a pot!'  
  
'Shut up Fred, you're a bastard instead!'  
  
'Now, Ron, be nice, or you'll get lice.' Said Hermione, trying to make peace.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was still listening to the Howler. Lord Voldemort, terror of the wizarding world, was still going strong. 'I HATE YOU! YOU'RE NASTY! YOU'RE STUUUUUUUUUUPID! YOU'RE SILLY! I'M GOING TO GET YOU SOON! VERY SOON! SOONER THAN YOU EXPECT! AND THEN YOU'LL DIE! DIE DIE DIE! I HOPE YOU LIKE MY PRESENT STUPID BOY! IF YOU GET IT BEFORE I KILL YOU THAT IS! DIE! YODEL- EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'  
  
And with a final shriek, the Howler stopped shouting, and the envelope crumpled into ash and disappeared.  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' said Harry, jogging up and down as if he needed the loo. 'He really really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'We know he does, Harry!' said Hermione, exasperated. Then she feebly added, 'You don't look like Larry,' as she remembered about the rhymes.  
  
'What? Who's Larry?' asked Harry confused.  
  
'Er . . . we have to speak in rhyme all the time,' said Ron, then turning to Hermione. 'Who is Larry, stop talking to Harry!'  
  
'He isn't real, he's just a . . . seal.'  
  
'You know a seal called Larry?' asked Harry (see, even I'm rhyming now).  
  
'No, Po.'  
  
'Who's Po?' asked Ron, immediately, then feebly added, 'Ho ho.'  
  
'There is no Po, he had to go.' Said Hermione.  
  
'Where?' asked Harry. 'Where did Po go? Is he friends with Larry?'  
  
'No! Larry and Po, they're both made of snow!'  
  
'Oh! Snow!'  
  
'No snow! Po and Larry, they don't exist, Harry!' said Hermione.  
  
Harry looked very confused. Ron looked at Hermione. 'Perhaps we shouldn't speak in rhyme all the time. Harry won't understand, it's the law of the land.'  
  
'What, I have to speak in rhyme all the time?'  
  
'No Harry. You don't.' said Ron.  
  
'But . . . that's illegal unless you're Smeagol.'  
  
Hermione looked very impressed. 'You've read 'Lord of the Rings' Harry? It's a very long book for you.'  
  
'No. What's a book?' asked Harry, bemused.  
  
Ron and Hermione rolled their eyes and Hermione opened her mouth to answer him, but was prevented by a big black owl swooped down to Harry again, dropped a rectangular, and rather heavy object on his head, and swooped off.  
  
'Ouch!' said Harry, rubbing his head. He then looked down at it. On the front was a label, which read: 'Your present, with the compliments of Lord Voldemort.' Harry lifted the label. Underneath was a Concise Oxford English Dictionary.  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' Harry said.  
  
  
  
A/N: Hope you liked this chapter! I will update soon, probably, cos Harry will have to reply to Voldemort! You never know, he might even find out what pink letters are for! Anyway, please review! And sorry about the poetry, it really isn't my forte. 


	3. Let Battle Commence

A/N: I just wish to take this opportunity to announce that I do really love Harry. However, I am not one of those deluded souls who naively believes that Harry will get full marks in all his OWLs, take his NEWTs a year early, become captain of the England Quidditch team while still at school, defeat Voldemort in his sleep and manage to pick up a First from Cambridge in rocket science on the way. This story is for the believers, the Chosen Ones, who can see that past the hyped up exterior Harry is really just endearingly stupid. I admit I may have overdone it here, but it's more fun that way! And thanks for all the reviews! (  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends, enemies, and related thingys belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: May Battle Commence . . .  
  
The next morning found Harry Potter sitting in an armchair in the Burrow trying to read Voldemort's present. Which he was holding the wrong way up.  
  
'It seems to be in code,' said Harry, wisely, to Hermione, who was sitting on a sofa giggling at something that Ron had just whispered to her (I'll leave you to guess what!). Hermione turned to look.  
  
'Um . . . actually Harry, you hold it this way up,' said Hermione, taking the dictionary and replacing it the right way in Harry's hands.  
  
'Aaaaaaaaaaah,' said Harry, pushing his glasses down his nose so as to look as wise as possible. 'Of course. I was simply . . . testing you.'  
  
'Yes, Harry,' said Hermione kindly, elbowing Ron, who was curled up laughing in a rather less than subtle way.  
  
A few moments elapsed. Then . . .  
  
'It seems to be in code,' said Harry again, looking across to Ron and Hermione. Hermione looked quite worried.  
  
'Er . . . no Harry, you're holding it the right way up and everything.'  
  
'Well, how come I still can't read it then?'  
  
Ron looked uncomfortable. Hermione looked uncomfortable.  
  
'Um . . . Harry?' began Hermione.  
  
'Yes?' said Harry.  
  
'Er . . . can you actually read?'  
  
'Oh!' said Harry, proudly. 'Yes, of course. I got up to the first level in my reading books at my old school.'  
  
'Ah,' said Hermione.  
  
'Er . . . what's he on about Hermione?' asked Ron, having not been to Muggle school.  
  
Hermione lowered her voice, so Harry couldn't hear her reply. Which was rather unnecessary as Harry was too busy trying to look as if he was wisely reading a dictionary. Which was again, the wrong way up. 'Er . . . Harry got to first level reading. Which means he can read colours like 'green' and some animals and some basic words like 'roof' and 'door'.'  
  
'Ah,' said Ron, tactfully. Unfortunately he collapsed into giggles straight afterwards for quite some time, muttering to himself: 'door! door!' which kind of spoilt the effect.  
  
Harry looked at him, troubled, his glasses almost sliding off the end of his nose. Hermione saw this, patted Ron, and said to Harry. 'Simple things . . .' Harry nodded wisely.  
  
Then asked, 'What?'  
  
'. . . please simple people.' Finished Hermione, patiently.  
  
Harry looked very confused. Then comprehension dawned. 'Oh! Like DOORS!' he said. Then added 'boors' absently for no apparent reason.  
  
'Yes, like doors. And 'boors'? Harry, why 'boors'?'  
  
Harry looked at her severely. 'You know, Po.'  
  
'Harry, what . . . ?'  
  
Harry sighed, exasperated. Then said, pointedly, 'You said we have to speak in rhyme all the time.'  
  
'Harry, that finished yesterday.'  
  
'That did not rhyme, now what's the time?' said Harry, gravely.  
  
Hermione collapsed into hysterics and joined Ron, who was now rolling around on the floor, still shouting, 'DOOR!' randomly. Harry blinked, looked at them, concerned, and then remembered that he had to send Voldemort a howler. He pootled off to fetch a red envelope, and found Mrs. Weasley also taking an envelope out of the cupboard. She, however, did not seem to want him to know this.  
  
'Erm . . . you go first, Harry dear,' said Mrs. Weasley, sounding quite breathless. Harry looked bemused, shrugged, picked out a red envelope and walked out. If he had been awake enough to listen, he might have heard a nervous giggle, and something that sounded very much like, 'Aah, Gildy,' but he wasn't really paying that much attention. So he carried his red envelope up to Ron's room and screamed.  
  
'I HATE YOU! EVIL MAN! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU AND YOUR STUPID DICTIONARY THING! AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! BUT I CAN SCREAM LOUDER THAN YOU! IN FACT YOUR OTHER HOWLER WAS SO QUIET I COULDN'T EVEN HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAR IT! HA! YOU CAN'T SHOUT! BUT ANYWAY I HATE YOU! YOU REALLY REALLY ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE I CAN SCREAM LOUDER!'  
  
Unfortunately, Harry was interrupted in mid-shout by Hermione and Ron, now virtually calmed down, peering round the door.  
  
'Er . . . Harry?' asked Hermione, looking disturbed.  
  
'Yes?' asked Harry, calmly. 'What is it?'  
  
'Er . . . what are you doing?'  
  
'I've forgotten.' Said Harry, peaceably.  
  
'Well, it sounded like you were shouting.' Said Ron, helpfully. 'A lot. Very loudly.'  
  
'Oh yes,' said Harry vaguely. 'I was sending a Howler.'  
  
'Oh.' said Hermione. Then very unwisely added: 'To who? And why?'  
  
'Lord Voldemort. Because he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'NO!' shouted Ron, and banged his head against the door.  
  
'Don't damage the door, Ron,' said Hermione, irritably. However, this did not really calm Ron down, as he immediately fell down laughing, shouting sporadically, 'DOOR! DOOR!' Hermione turned to Harry, exasperated.  
  
However, Harry was laughing too. 'You said 'to who?' Hermione, you said 'to who'! Twit-t-woo! Twit-t- woo! You're an owl Hermione! You're an owl.'  
  
Meanwhile, the Howler was sitting there in front of Harry, innocently recording the entire conversation. Harry then noticed it, and began shouting again. 'I HATE YOU! AND WHY DID YOU YODEL? WHY ON EARTH DID YOU YODEL YOU STUPID MAN?'  
  
Hermione touched Harry on the shoulder. 'Erm . . . Harry, I think he said he yodelled because you did.'  
  
'Oh yeah!' said Harry happily, then began to shout 'YODEL-EH-I- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' loudly into the poor, deafened envelope. 'ANYWAY I HATE YOU! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! NEVER WRITE TO ME AGAIN! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AND STOP WATCHING BOB THE BUILDER! AND HE CAN ALWAYS FIX IT YOU FOOL! BOB CAN ALWAYS FIX IT! YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS! YOU'RE JEALOUS OF BOB AND YOU'RE JEALOUS OF ME! YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOO! YOU'RE JUST SAD BECAUSE MY YODELLING IS BETTER THAN YOURS! BUT I HATE YOU! STAY AWAY! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!'  
  
And with this Harry calmly sealed the envelope and began to try to address it. Hermione saw that he was having some difficulty. 'Er . . . Harry, do you want me to teach you how to spell 'Voldemort'?' she offered kindly.  
  
'No, because that would really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY me!' said Harry, finally settling for again, writing 'Freak'. 'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me, Hermione, he really really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me.'  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' screamed Hermione.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' screamed Ron. They then both ran from the room, leaving Harry to find an owl.  
  
He eventually found the obliging Pig, who was very excited at the prospect of delivering a brightly-coloured letter. In fact he was so excited that he kept on jumping up and down so Harry was occupied for quite some time trying to tie on the Howler, during which, Hermione and Ron had time to calm down.  
  
As Pig flew off into the clear blue sky, Harry Potter waved at him. 'See you later, alligator.' He murmured. If Pig had been a cultured owl, he would have turned round and replied, 'In a while, crocodile.' But Pig just flew away.  
  
Ron turned to Hermione. 'It's an owl, not a crocodile!' he said (yes, dear little Ronniekins does have a talent for stating the obvious).  
  
'Well, you did call him pig . . .' began Hermione. Then she turned to Harry. 'But that wasn't what we came to talk to Harry about, was it Ron?' she said, elbowing Ron and glaring at him.  
  
'Erm . . . no.' said Ron.  
  
'You see, Harry,' began Hermione, 'don't you think that You-Know-Who might try even harder to kill you if you keep sending him hate mail?'  
  
'Probably,' said Harry, vacantly. Then said: 'But he really does ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY me!'  
  
Ron screamed. Hermione screamed. Ron ran away. Hermione ran away. 'AAAAAAAAAAARGH!' they both shouted, leaving Harry alone.  
  
Hermione turned to Ron. Ron turned to Hermione. 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking?' asked Hermione.  
  
'Probably,' said Ron. 'But why would courgettes feel the NEED to take over the world?'  
  
'Nooooo!' said Hermione. 'If You-Know-Who does kill Harry, he won't be able to tell us that he's annoyed anymore!'  
  
'YES!' shouted Ron. 'That's our answer!' And he turned to Hermione and kissed her.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was still sitting in Ron's bedroom, fuming against Lord Voldemort. Mrs. Weasley had come up, still rather pink, to see what the matter was. 'Are you alright, Harry dear?' she asked, kindly.  
  
'Yes,' replied Harry, 'but he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'We know, Harry,' said Mrs. Weasley, hugging him. 'We really do know.'  
  
  
  
A/N: Hope you liked it! Please review! ( 


	4. Howls and Hurts

Disclaimer: Yes, Harry still belongs to J.K. Rowling!  
  
A/N: Thankyou so much for all the reviews! The most I've ever got on any other story is 11, so I was so happy that people reviewed this one! Thanks, you are all wonderful people. And thanks to everyone who had really cool plot ideas . . . I can't promise but you *may* see them coming up later on!  
  
  
  
Chapter Four: Howls and Hurts  
  
When Harry was woken the next day, it wasn't by Fred and George coming up to 'affectionately' strangle Ron as per usual, but by a strange burning smell. Coming from something right next to his left ear. Come to think of it, his ear also felt . . . warmer than usual. But ickle Harrykins was not yet awake enough to guess the reason for this (although even if he was wide awake and chockful of caffeine, it's debatable whether he'd have realised anyway).  
  
However, the cause of this unusual occurrence soon made itself very clear indeed. By howling. Right into Harry's ear.  
  
Harry shot out of bed. Ron shot out of bed. Probably all the other Weasleys and Hermione shot out of bed as well, but I wouldn't know. I wasn't watching them.  
  
Harry and Ron started, traumatised, at the envelope, addressed to 'Harry Potter' or alternatively 'Imbecile'. Which was bright red and flaming. Which was a bit of a giveaway to those who hadn't already guessed. 'Oh! It's a Howler!' said our favourite black-haired boy as comprehension dawned. Ron slowly nodded, then they both gaped at the Howler, which had now started to sing.  
  
'WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU! WE WILL WE WILL ROCK YOU!' it belted out, fairly tunefully actually, especially when compared to Harry's yodelling. Then, apparently, the sender got bored of this song, and reverted to their favourite: 'BOB THE BUILDER! CAN HE FIX IT? BOB THE BUILDER! YES HE CAN (USUALLY)!'  
  
Ron looked at Harry. Harry looked at Ron. Ron screamed. Harry screamed. Hermione came running into the room. 'Are you OK? Why are you shouting? Why are you SINGING?' Ron pointed, wordlessly, at the Howler, and the penny dropped. 'Ah,' said Hermione, sounding very wise. Harry noticed this and did not want to be outdone. So he slid his glasses down his nose for maximum effect, and tried to think of something intelligent to say. It looked very painful. Thinking was a new idea to our hero. Hermione noticed Harry's pained look and the deep wrinkles appearing in his forehead. She also noticed the fact that he was wearing his glasses à la Dumbledore, but decided, for the timebeing, to overlook that fact. 'Harry? Are you OK? Is your scar hurting?'  
  
But Harry didn't reply. He had now thought of something he considered quite intelligent to say. He gestured at the Howler. 'It would appear that Lord Voldemort has replied,' he said seriously. Ron looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Ron. Ron shrugged. Hermione shrugged. And they both turned back to Harry. 'Er . . . yes,' said Hermione, cautiously. 'It would seem so.' They all looked at the Howler, which was still going strong. It was now in shouting mode.  
  
'SO YOU THINK YOU CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN ME, EH, POTTER? WELL I'VE GOT NEWS FOR YOU. YOU'RE WRONG! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE? AND I'VE GOT MORE NEWS FOR YOU! YOU'RE STUPID AS WELL AS HAVING A PITIFUL VOICE. OH, BUT YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T UNDERSTAND THAT LAST SENTENCE, DID YOU? YOU ARE STUPID. AND IT ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS ME!'  
  
'No!' said Hermione covering her ears in pain. Ron did likewise. But Harry was still listening to the Howler.  
  
'AND YOU FORGOT THAT YOU WERE SENDING ME A HOWLER? WHEN YOU WERE IN MID- SHOUT? I'VE GIVEN UP TRYING TO UNDERSTAND YOU, HARRY! YOU THOUGHT I WAS JEALOUS OF BOB THE BUILDER? WHAT DO YOU TAKE ME FOR? IT'S HIS CAT I WANT, NOT HIM! I MERELY WISH TO KIDNAP PILCHARD. IS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU? IS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO UNDERSTAND? I HATE YOU, HARRY. AND I'M GOING TO GET YOU SOON, JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOY ME!'  
  
Harry turned to Hermione. 'Don't say it, Harry!' she pleaded. 'Please, don't say it!'  
  
Harry started jogging gently from side to side as if he really really needed the loo. 'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' he shouted. 'He really, really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'We know!' said Ron, 'we know only too well!' He turned to Hermione. 'If only we could use magic during the holidays!' he said. Hermione nodded sympathetically.  
  
'Why?' Harry wanted to know.  
  
'Erm . . . so we could . . . crack mirrors!' said Ron, lamely.  
  
'Oh, easy-peasy!' said Harry. 'You don't need magic for that! Look. You do it like this!' and he marched over to Ron's bedroom mirror, gave a trademark Daniel Radcliffe seriously terrifying grin, and the glass obligingly cracked. 'There you go!' said Harry, happily. 'But why do you want to crack mirrors?'  
  
Ron was too busy staring, scared, at Harry to reply. Hermione was also looking quite daunted. The Howler wasn't though.  
  
'GONNA GET YER! GONNA EAT YER!' It had started singing again. Then the sender started rapping . . . 'THE NAME IS VOLDY AND I THINK POTTER IS MOULDY AND I KNOW I'M GONNA GET REVENGE - YEAH! COS HE'S EVIL AND HE'S VILE, HE REMINDS ME OF MY . . . BILE, SO I KNOW I'M GONNA GET REVENGE, YEAH!'  
  
Hermione listened, awed. 'I never knew You-Know-Who was a musician!' she said to Ron. Ron looked a little disappointed. Then said: 'Well, music is one of MY many talents, Hermy,' in what he obviously considered to be a seductive and winning voice.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by an unmistakeable snigger from George, who was, with Fred, hiding behind Ron's bedroom door and listening to their conversation. 'Shut up, George!' shouted Ron. 'Go away and stop hiding behind the . . . DOORS! DOORS!' and Ron relapsed into hysteria. Again.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione blankly. 'What's so funny about doors?' he asked, bemused.  
  
'Oh, nothing, Harry,' said Hermione, sounding stifled, and struggling to hold back her giggles. Pretty unsuccessfully. She collapsed onto the floor and joined Ron, wriggling with mirth. Harry blinked. Harry shrugged. Fred and George came in.  
  
'What's wrong with them?' asked Fred.  
  
'I wish I knew,' said Harry, sounding rather wise, but the effect was spoilt by the fact that his glasses now appeared to be wedged up his nostrils. He then continued to listen to the Howler.  
  
'YOU ARE SO STUPID! IT'S UNBELIEVABLE. AND YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD A CHANCE AGAINST ME. SHOUTING AGAINST ME. I CAN SHOUT FAR TOO LOUDLY FOR YOUR LITTLE EARDRUMS, POTTER. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SEE? SEE HOW WRONG YOU WERE. YODEL-EH-I-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YODEL-EH-I-EEEEEEEEEE! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! WHEN I'M READY, I'LL COME FOR YOU, WITH PILCHARD, BUT UNTIL THEN, I'M BUSY PLOTTING AND DO NOT NOT NOT WANT TO BE DISTURBED BY MORONS WITH ISSUES!'  
  
Fred whistled. George whistled. 'You must have really rattled him, Harry,' said Fred, impressed.  
  
However, Harry was too busy trying to whistle to hear that last sentence. 'You can WHISTLE!' he said, deeply impressed.  
  
'Er . . . yes. We can whistle,' said George, with a worried look at Fred.  
  
'Can you teach me?' asked Harry, awed. 'Please? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease? Pretty please with a cherry on top and chocolate sprinkles and extra cream and . . .'  
  
'Er . . . OK,' said Fred, also looking worried. 'If you want . . .'  
  
And to the background of Ron's hysteria, Hermione's nervous and sporadic giggles, and the Howler, which was still going strong, the twins tried to teach the fifteen-year-old Harry Potter to whistle. He unfortunately did not seem to possess natural aptitude. After the thirty-fourth strange wet bubbling sound, George said, 'Um . . . maybe you need a . . . rest, Harry. Maybe you can't whistle because you're too tired.'  
  
'Could be,' said Harry wisely, nodding, then 'Ow!' as his glasses poked him up the nose. He looked at the flaming red envelope and noticed that it was nearly burnt up. But the voice continued as strong as ever.  
  
'STOP SENDING ME LETTERS! DON'T STALK ME! KEEP AWAY FROM ME! OR I'LL SET PILCHARD ON YOU WHEN I'VE GOT HIM! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! YOU REALLY REALLY DO! BUT SHUT UP, AND KEEP AWAY, OR I'LL COME AND KILL YOU EARLIER THAN I THOUGHT I'D HAVE TO.' And for a grand finale, a final, loud, rendition of 'BOB THE BUILDER!' then the envelope crumpled into ash and the flames went out.  
  
The room was suddenly quiet. Well, apart from Ron's insane laughing. Hermione had managed to virtually collect herself.  
  
'Harry, maybe you should stop sending him Howlers,' said Fred, 'I mean, there's something . . . unhealthily obsessive about sending him so many letters.'  
  
'Yeah,' said George. 'It is kind of . . . weird, Harry.'  
  
'But he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' said Harry loudly.  
  
Ron screamed and ran from the room. Hermione screamed and ran from the room.  
  
'He really, really, ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
Fred screamed and ran from the room. George screamed and ran from the room.  
  
'He really really really does ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY me!'  
  
The entire Weasley family evacuated the house, screaming.  
  
Leaving Harry alone inside Ron's bright orange bedroom. Well, not quite alone. Because something was trying to get through a small window into the room. So Harry naively decided to open the bigger window and let it in (stupid boy). The It was actually a Them. Three big birds flew in through the window, and each carried a smoking red envelope in their beaks.  
  
  
  
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review! ( 


	5. Further Opposition

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all his little friends (and big friends) and enemies and neutral acquaintances and all Harry Potter related stuff belongs to J.K. Rowling. And only her. Not to any BROTHERS of any kind. Who might happen to be called WARNER.  
  
A/N: Sorry, this is getting really unoriginal, but thankyou so much for reviewing! I love you all! ( But in this story, my Sirius and Remus and Hagrid are kind of strange . . . so please don't be offended if you love them or anything. I love them too. I do. Really.  
  
  
  
Chapter Five: Further Opposition  
  
As the birds flew out the window, Harry Potter looked down, bemused, at the three smoking envelopes. On one he recognised the untidy scrawl of a certain Hogwarts gamekeeper. On another, he saw the now familiar script of his godfather. And the last letter . . . well, the handwriting looked familiar, but Harry couldn't quite place it.  
  
Hagrid's was the first to start shouting. It began with the customary shout, then the gamekeeper immediately launched into shouting. Obviously, songs were not his thing. 'HARRY! YER CAN'T GO PUTTIN' YERSELF IN DANGER LIKE THA'! SENDIN' 'ATEMAIL TO YOU-KNOW-WHO! DUNNO WHEN I'VE BIN MORE SHOCKED. YOU STOP THIS STUPID GAME RIGH' NOW, EH, HARRY? OR I'LL KNOW THE REASON WHY. DOWN, FANG, DOWN! YER LOOK AFTER YERSELF, EH, 'ARRY? YER BE CAREFUL, LAD. OR I'LL COME AN' FETCH YER MESELF.'  
  
Hagrid continued to shout, but another voice had now been added to the chaos. 'HARRY! YOU IDIOT! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE FIFTEEN YEARS OLD! WHAT YOUR PARENTS WOULD HAVE SAID . . . I DON'T KNOW, HARRY, I JUST DON'T KNOW. YOU CANNOT HARASS DARK LORDS! IT JUST ISN'T SENSIBLE! I THOUGHT YOU WERE TRULY YOUR FATHER'S SON, HARRY. AND JAMES WOULD NEVER EVER HAVE SENT HATEMAIL TO VOLDEMORT! WELL . . . HE PROBABLY WOULD ACTUALLY IF HE'D THOUGHT ABOUT IT . . . BUT YOU CAN'T! I FORBID YOU TO SEND HATEMAIL TO DARK LORDS OF ANY DESCRIPTION. OW, BUCKBEAK! GET OFF! ANYWAY HARRY. I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN YOU. OH, AND WATCH OUT FOR THAT ARTHUR WEASLEY! PEOPLE CALL ME PARANOID, BUT I HAVE TO GIVE AT LEAST ONE WARNING EVERY TIME I SEE YOU DON'T I OTHERWISE I WOULDN'T BE A GOOD GODFATHER. I HEAR RUMOURS THAT HE'S RIGHT IN YOU-KNOW-WHO'S INNER CIRCLE! OH . . . ACTUALLY THAT WAS PROBABLY LUCIUS MALFOY. BUT ANYWAY, WATCH OUT FOR HIM. AND WATCH OUT FOR YOURSELF, YOU STUPID . . .'  
  
Sirius and Hagrid were evidently still going strong. But the third howler had also began to shout at Harry. And it had a somewhat . . . troubling message for him. 'HARRY, I AM INCREDIBLY UPSET BY YOUR POOR KNOWLEDGE OF YODELLING! I'D NEVER HAVE THOUGHT YOU'D BE SO BAD FROM OUR TIME AT HOGWARTS. I'M A MOUNTAIN WOLF, AND I'VE BEEN TO SWITZERLAND SO I OUGHT TO KNOW. THE WAY YOU'RE YODELLING IS JUST INCREDIBLY COMMON. 'YODEL-EH-I- OOOOOOOO!' WHAT IS THAT? IT'S ALL IN THE DICTION, BOY, THOUGH IT COULD DO WITH BEING IN TUNE, ACTUALLY. BUT ANYWAY, IT'S YODEL-AE-EE-OOOOOOOOOOO! MAKE THE 'OO' SOUND NICE AND LONG. AND NONE OF THIS '-EH-I-' BUSINESS AGAIN OR I'LL BE WRITING TO YOUR GODFATHER. NOW, THIS IS A SAMPLE OF SOME *PROPER* YODELLING.'  
  
And whoever had sent the Howler began to yodel very nicely and sweetly, with a background chorus of what were presumably his friend mountain wolves. Even though it was incredibly loud, it still made a very pleasant sound. But Harry still couldn't place the sender. All he knew was that he knew Sirius well, knew him, was at Hogwarts for a while, and was sometimes a wolf. But I mean, that just really isn't enough clues is it? That's just impossible, quite frankly.  
  
By this time, the Weasleys had gathered up enough strength of mind to return to their house. And Ron and Hermione were standing behind the door of Ron's bedroom, listening to the sound coming from within.  
  
'Oooooh, Harry has got better,' said Ron, on hearing the yodelling.  
  
'That's not him, Ron,' said Hermione, patiently.  
  
'How do you know?'  
  
'Well, lets put it this way, have you ever heard Harry singing in tune before?'  
  
'Good point,' said Ron, looking admiringly at Hermione.  
  
'Elementary, my dear Watson,' said Hermione, flicking her hair back so a large bush hit Fred's face, making him sneeze.  
  
'AAAAAAAAATCHOOOO!' said Fred. Then, 'What did you do that for?'  
  
'I didn't know you were there,' said Hermione. 'Why ARE you there?'  
  
'We didn't want to miss out on the fun,' said George, smirking evilly along with his twin. Then, 'that guy's good!'  
  
'Yeah,' said Ron, absently, before turning to Hermione, and saying, 'My surname is Weasley.'  
  
Hermione gave him a weird look. 'Yeah, oddly enough I KNOW that Ron. I mean, I've only been your friend for almost four years.'  
  
'Well, OK.' said Ron, sounding unconvinced, 'but you did just call me 'Watson'.'  
  
'Er . . . no I didn't,' said Hermione.  
  
'Yes you did, you said 'Elementary, my dear Watson' after you said that it wasn't Harry yodelling.'  
  
'Watson? Oh, he's from 'Sherlock Holmes'. It's a quote, Ron. I wouldn't expect you to understand.'  
  
'Oh.' said Ron. Then 'Hey!' then 'Poor guy!'  
  
'Who, Watson? Why?'  
  
'No, Sherlock Holmes.'  
  
'But why, Ron?'  
  
'Imagine having a name like that! I mean, what were his parents thinking? (no offense if you happen to be called Sherlock Holmes, it's just Ron being politically incorrect!).'  
  
Hermione just patted Ron on the shoulder in reply. There was a moment's silence outside the bedroom. Then, 'that guy is REALLY good', from George, as the mystery yodeller launched into a yodelling solo.  
  
Meanwhile, inside the bedroom, Harry was still listening to the Howlers.  
  
'YER WAN' TER GET YERSELF KILLED? COS YER GOING ABOU' IT THE RIGH' WAY, 'ARRY. I'D'VE SWORN YOU 'AD MORE SENSE IN YER! OUCH! FANG! DON'T! 'ARRY, I WAN' YER TER PROMISE ME SOMETHIN'. PROMISE ME YER WON'T OWL 'IM AGAIN. COS YER PUTTIN' YERSELF AT RISK, 'ARRY, ACTIN' AS Y'ARE. FANG, MIN' THA' ILLEGAL DRAGON'S EGG! AH, NO! I SHOULDN'T'VE SAID THA'! AH, FANG! PUT BACK THA' SECRET PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. AH, NO! I SHOULDN'T'VE SAID THA' EITHER . . .'  
  
Harry now decided to listen to Sirius.  
  
'I KNOW YOU ALL THINK I'M PARANOID. BUT YOU HAVE TO WATCH THAT ARTHUR WEASLEY. I KNOW HE'S UP TO NO GOOD. BUT YOU ALL THINK I'M JUST PARANOID, DON'T YOU? YOU AND RON AND HERMIONE. YOU ALL THINK I'M PARANOID. AND I'M NOT. I'M NOT PARANOID AT ALL. BUT YOU THINK I AM. YOU DO DON'T YOU HARRY. YOU THINK I'M PARANOID . . .'  
  
And finally, a pleasant yodelling chorus.  
  
'That guy really is GOOD!' said Fred, behind the door.  
  
'Shut up, Fred,' said Ron, elbowing his brother.  
  
'Ouch!' said Fred, falling forwards and pushing everyone through the door. Then 'Whoops! Sorry. It was Ron's fault anyway.'  
  
'Was not!'  
  
'Was too!' said George, sounding oddly squished. 'And Hermione, I don't want to give you an eating disorder or weird insecurities or anything but you really are abnormally heavy . . .'  
  
'Say that again!' said Hermione, squishing George even closer to the floor.  
  
'Aaaaaaaaaaaargh! Can't . . . breathe . . . ouch . . .'  
  
Hermione relented and climbed off George. Desperate little Ronniekins found another desperate little chat-up line to try and get Hermione to notice him more.  
  
'Er . . . I wouldn't say no to you being on top of me any day, Hermy.'  
  
'Eww! Ron, you really are sick!' said Fred. George simply looked revolted.  
  
'In our day . . .' began Fred.  
  
'. . . people were more subtle,' finished George.  
  
Hermione didn't seem too offended by Ron's comment though. She tossed her hair back, once again making Fred sneeze, and rolled a little closer to Ron, who was now the same colour as his hair.  
  
'I like that yodelling guy.' Said George. 'I really, really, like that yodelling guy.'  
  
'Who, Professor Lupin?' asked Hermione.  
  
'That's Professor Lupin?'  
  
'Yes, I can tell by the voice and the mountain wolf chorus.'  
  
'Yes!' said Harry pointing at Hermione. 'It IS Lupin. I couldn't guess. All I knew was that he knew Sirius well, knew me, was at Hogwarts for a while, and was sometimes a wolf.'  
  
Hermione just nodded and said, 'Yes, Harry.'  
  
Harry turned his attention back to the Howlers. They were still going strong.  
  
'I'M JUS' ASKIN' YOU TER BE CAREFUL, HARRY. THA'S ALL I'M ASKING. NO, FANG! MIND ME SECRE' MEAD SUPPLY! I 'AD TER SLEEP WITH ROSMERTA FER THA'. AH, I SHOULDN'T'VE SAID THA'! ANYWAY, 'ARRY. YER BE CAREFUL! OR I'LL COME AN' TAKE YER TER DUMBLEDORE I WILL. GREAT MAN, DUMBLEDORE. GORGEOUS HAIR. GREAT KISSER. OH, SHOULDN'T'VE SAID THA'. YER BE CAREFUL. NO, FANG! NOT THE SECRET UNICORN BLOOD! SHOULDN'T'VE SAID THA'. ER . . . HARRY, I'VE 'EARD THA' . . . SOMETIMES HOWLERS GO . . . WRONG . . . YEAH, THA'S IT, SO IT SOUNDS LIKE PEOPLE'VE SAID THINGS THA' ACTU'LLY THEY 'AVEN'T. KNOW WHA' I MEAN? YEAH, WELL, ANYWAY, DON'T WRITE TER VOLDEMORT OR I'LL COME AN' GET YER MESELF.' And the envelope crumbled into ashes and the noise stopped.  
  
Harry turned to Sirius' envelope. 'YOU DO, DON'T YOU! YOU THINK I'M PARANOID. YOU ALL THINK I'M PARANOID. I CAN TELL! YOU'VE SENT PEOPLE TO FOLLOW ME, HAVEN'T YOU. YOU HAVE, HAVEN'T YOU. COS YOU THINK I'M PARANOID. I'M NOT PARANOID. I'M NOT PARANOID AT ALL! OW, BUCKBEAK! I'M TRYING TO TALK TO MY NEPHEW. ANYWAY HARRY, NO MORE CORRESPONDENCE WITH ANY DARK LORDS OF ANY KIND. AND NO PRESENTS. THOUGH, ACTUALLY . . . MAYBE YOU SHOULD KEEP THAT DICTIONARY. BUT ANYWAY. NO MORE LETTERS! NO MORE, OK? KEEP SAFE.' And with that, Sirius' Howler added to the floor which was now almost covered in ash.  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George listened to a little more pleasant yodelling before the sender resumed shouting. 'SO REMEMBER, NICE LONG 'OOOOOOO', AND NONE OF THIS COMMON '-EH-I-' BUSINESS.' And with a final, 'YODEL-AE-EE-OOOOOOOOOOO!' the envelope crumpled into ash.  
  
Harry smiled. 'Nice music,' he said. But then a devilish gleam came into his eyes, and he said, 'but not nice enough to stop him ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYING me!'  
  
Ron screamed. Hermione screamed. Fred screamed. George screamed. And they all ran away.  
  
  
  
A/N: Hope you liked this! Please don't be offended by my Lupin and Sirius and Hagrid! And please review! ( 


	6. Harry's Unusual Reply

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Sorry everybody!  
  
A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews! And the twins' version of 'Incy Wincy Spider' I learnt from Nadia, so that's hers, not mine. (  
  
  
  
Chapter Six: Harry's Unusual Reply  
  
The next morning, Harry woke up with a very original idea.  
  
'I know!' he said. 'I'll send him another Howler!'  
  
Ron rolled over. 'Wha', 'Arry?'  
  
'I'll send him another Howler! Because he ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
Ron screamed and fell out of bed. 'Please, Harry, no. Please.'  
  
But Harry wasn't listening. With a final, 'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' which made Ron dive back under his blanket screaming, he toddled off to get another Howler. But this time, Harry had a plan. Voldemort thought he could scream louder than him, did he? Well, Harry knew someone who Voldemort certainly couldn't shout louder than. Someone who no-one could shout louder than.  
  
Molly Weasley. But first, to actually begin the letter. Harry pootled off to the cupboard to get an envelope, selected one carefully, and took it back to his room. And screamed.  
  
Ron fell out of bed again. 'Ouch! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AAAAAAAAAAAARGH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Please Harry, please, Harry no!'  
  
Harry's scream had woken up the rest of the household. Mrs. Weasley came bustling in, asking Ron if Harry's scar was hurting, if You-Know-Who had turned up, if the garden-gnomes, of which Harry had developed a phobia, were bothering him again. However, Ron was too traumatised to reply.  
  
Mrs. Weasley shrugged and left the room. Neither Ron nor Harry appeared to be hurt. Maybe severely psychologically scarred, but . . .  
  
Hermione opened the door just as Ron tried to run through it. They crashed straight into each other and both fell over, Hermione on top of Ron. As Hermione tried to get off him, although Ron was certainly not averse to the situation, he began to see George's point. Hermione certainly was heavy.  
  
But then Harry started shouting. 'I HATE YOU! YOU ARE SO, SO WRONG! AND EVIL! AAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! AND YOU WANT TO KIDNAP PILCHARD? HOW . . . HOW . . . THAT'S JUST WRONG. THINK HOW UPSET BOB'LL BE! BUT YOU WOULDN'T CARE, WOULD YOU? COS YOU'RE EVIL! AND MEAN! AND ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYING! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY TIMES INFINITY TO THE POWER OF INFINITY TO THE POWER OF INFINITY HAAAAAAAAAAATE YOU! AND YOU REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME!'  
  
Ron looked at Hermione. Hermione looked at Ron. 'RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!' she shouted. And they both sprinted off towards the garden.  
  
'What can we DO?' asked Hermione despairingly, once they had reached the safety of the Weasley's yard.  
  
'I don't know!' shouted Ron. 'I just don't know. Harry's really beginning to ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY me!'  
  
'NO! RON! I don't want to lose you too!' bellowed Hermione, falling on top of him.  
  
Ron stopped in mid-shout, squashed. 'I'm sorry, Hermy, it's just that Harry is really really annoy . . .'  
  
'. . . getting on your nerves,' completed Hermione, hurriedly.  
  
'Yeah, that's it,' said Ron, gratefully. 'But what can we do about it?'  
  
'Hermione simply shrugged hopelessly. But then her eyes lit up and she turned again to Ron. 'I've had an idea!'  
  
'GOOD!' shouted Ron. 'What are we going to do then?'  
  
'First,' said Hermione, an evil glint in her eye, 'we need to catch a gnome.'  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was still shouting inside the Burrow, all its other inhabitants having decided to run into and stay in the garden.  
  
'YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME! I HAAAAAAAAAAAATE YOU! YOU'RE EEEEEEEEEEVIL! YOU'RE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAN! YOU JUST KEEP AWAY FROM ME AND MY FRIENDS. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! YOU ARE SO ANNOYING! I REALLY REALLY REALLY DO HATE YOU!'  
  
At this point our hero once again forgot what he was doing so started humming to himself. And then started jumping up and down shouting: 'BANANAS IN PYJAMAS ARE COMING DOWN THE STAIRS. BANANAS IN PYJAMAS ARE CHASING TEDDY- BEARS!'  
  
Our favourite black-haired boy (whose hair was distinctly BROWN in the film along with his BLUE eyes) then caught sight of the envelope on the floor. *Oh yes!* he thought to himself *I was sending a Howler!* Top marks for perception and all that, Harry. So he began shouting again.  
  
'I HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE YOU! EVERYONE HAAAAAAAAATES YOU! EVEN . . . EVEN . . . EVEN *PARSNIPS* HATE YOU! AND SO DO I! YODEL-EH-I- OOOOOOOOOOOOO! YODEL-EH-I-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN SCREAM LOUDER THAN YOU! A LOT LOUDER! AND I BET YOU WERE CHEATING ANYWAY! BUT WAIT A MINUTE AND I'LL SCREAM LOUDER THAN YOU'VE EVER HEARD IN YOUR LIFE! JUSTYOU WAIT AND SEE YOU LOSER!' And Harry stopped screaming and toddled off to find Mrs. Weasley.  
  
He caught up with her in the garden a few minutes later, where she was telling off Fred and George for eating another chair. She turned to see him gazing vacantly up at her.  
  
'Yes, Harry dear?' she said expectantly.  
  
'I've forgotten,' said Harry, looking crestfallen.  
  
'Uh, Harry, why are you holding a p . . .' began George.  
  
'Oh, I know!' said Harry, his sweet little face lighting up. 'Mrs. Weasley, please could you scream for me? Please?'  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked somewhat taken aback. 'If you want, dear . . .' she said, looking concerned.  
  
'Thankyou!' said Harry, smiling, and he held out the envelope.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' screamed Mrs. Weasley. 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!'  
  
Everyone was deafened. When Harry had partially recovered, he politely said 'Thankyou,' gave a mirror-cracking smile, and turned to go back.  
  
Mrs. Weasley watched him. 'Just one question, Harry. Why are you carrying a p . . . ?'  
  
But Harry was already back in the Burrow.  
  
Meanwhile Hermione and Ron had perfected their evil plan. 'Right, Hermy,' said Ron, breathless. 'We have the gnome, now what's the plan?'  
  
Hermione the Evil Mastermind turned and gave Ron an evil smile. 'It's quite simple really, Ron.' She said. 'Every time Harry ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS us' (at this point Ron fell to the ground screaming and almost let the gnome escape) 'we threaten him with this gnome. Simple, yet effective.'  
  
Ron's mouth fell open. 'WOW!' he said. And the two sat down in the grass and cackled to each other.  
  
Harry, however, was sitting, oblivious to this treachery, in the Burrow's sitting room, and was finishing his Howler. 'I HATE YOU! YOU'RE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL! AND YOU CAN'T YODEL OR SCREAM! I CAN SHOUT LOUDER THAN YOU! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! NOW KEEP AWAY FROM ME! KEEP AWAY AND NEVER CONTACT ME OR MY FRIENDS AGAIN! IF YOU DO, YOU'LL REALLY, REALLY ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY ME AND THEN I'LL COME AND ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY YOU. SO THERE! AAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' And with this, Harry sealed the envelope and stopped shouting.  
  
Fred, George, Ron, and Hermione cautiously entered, Ron's pyjama top wriggling somewhat suspiciously.  
  
'Morning!' said Harry, chirpily.  
  
Everyone looked traumatised before George ventured, 'Morning, Harry!' in a very cautious voice. Fred and George then sat down on a sofa, and after a few moments struggle with a certain pyjama top, so did Ron and Hermione.  
  
'What's with the top?' asked Fred, interested.  
  
'Um . . .' began Ron eloquently, before George shouted, 'Look, a spider!'  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' screamed Ron diving under the sofa.  
  
'It's only small, Ron,' said Hermione, too patiently, gazing knowledgeably at the ceiling.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' Ron screamed again.  
  
'Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the kitchen wall. What a silly spider, what a place to crawl. Don't you know its just been freshly plastered? Now you're stuck you silly little . . . spider.' Sung Fred and George.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' Screamed Ron again.  
  
'Actually, I think you got it wrong,' said Harry, repositioning his glasses so they were sticking up his nostrils for maximum wiseness. 'It actually goes: Incy Wincy Spider climbed up the water spout. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sunshine and dried up all the rain . . .'  
  
'We know, Harry. It's supposed to be funny.' Said Fred.  
  
'Oh. It's just I didn't laugh. And neither did Hermione. And I thought if things were funny you were supposed to laugh or that meant they weren't funny.'  
  
'You don't have to laugh for something to be funny, Harry,' said Hermione. 'It's just that sometimes things that are already funny make you laugh.'  
  
'Oh,' said Harry, wisely.  
  
Ron took this opportunity to make himself heard. An arm stretched out from under the sofa. 'I bet I could make you laugh, Hermione.' Said a scary teenage voice attempting to sound seductive.  
  
Well, they did make Fred laugh. And George laugh. And Harry, but he didn't really understand why, he was just laughing because everyone else was. So that didn't really count. Hermione rolled down to lie beside the sofa. 'Oh, you could, could you?' she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.  
  
'I could!' said the owner of the arm, pulling Hermione under the sofa. Unfortunately she didn't fit. But it was a kind thought.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry was attempting to address his envelope. He had written 'FREAK' in his customary splodgy illegible handwriting. But he had been a little bemused when it turned into beautiful copperplate saying, 'Darling'. So he tried to write, 'Voldemort'. Even though this was mispelt, he was sure he hadn't written, 'My beautiful Voldy'. But hey, he couldn't read. All he knew was that it didn't say 'door', 'roof', 'dog', 'cat', 'blue', or any of his usual words.  
  
Harry found Pig, who was still the only owl insane enough to carry Harry's mail, tied the envelope to his leg, and threw him out of the window.  
  
And it was with some trepidation that he realised that the letter Pig was carrying was pink . . .  
  
Meanwhile, the sofa and its companion were still giggling happily. Harry turned towards them, and opened his mouth.  
  
'He ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!' he began.  
  
'We have a GNOME!' said the sofa's companion, brandishing something at our hero.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!' screamed Harry, and ran from the room  
  
  
  
A/N: Please review! This wasn't a great chapter but hopefully the next one will be a bit more interesting! I will try and post it soon but as I'm back at school I won't update as regularly as usual. 


	7. I wish I felt the same way, Harry

Disclaimer: Harry Potter still belongs to J.K. Rowling. And ONLY J.K. Rowling. Sorry! Oh, if anyone knows for certain anything about when the 5th book is coming out, can they tell me?  
  
A/N: Hello again! Pleeeeeeeeease review! I'd really love to get 100 reviews, cos the most I've got for any other story is 15 (I think). Well, actually, I think I'd probably like 101 reviews cos one of them was a evil, nasssssssssssssty one, my precious. He he he. Have you all seen HP2? It was really funny! BROWN-haired actors with Colgate ® smiles trying to die heroically really REALLY make me laugh! (  
  
  
  
Chapter 7: I just wish I felt the same way, Harry . . . but  
  
It was morning in the Burrow once more, and if anyone was mad enough to want to find him, Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, could be found happily gazing at his boiled egg waiting for Mrs. Weasley to notice his dilemma. It's hard, you know, it's very harsh, to expect a fifteen-year-old boy to be able to take the top off his own boiled egg. Maybe it had something to do with having no parents from age one. You'd have thought that would make you *more* independent. But I suppose if you have a negative IQ to begin with, you just never work these things out.  
  
So that would explain why Mrs. Weasley turned round to see Harry smiling vacantly at an egg that was rapidly getting colder, and in fact, on closer inspection, wasn't actually boiled at all.  
  
'Harry dear, you have to BOIL the egg before you eat it. Otherwise you get nasty bugs. Like salmonella,' said Mrs. Weasley wisely.  
  
Harry started giggling. Mrs. Weasley looked at him strangely. 'It's a funny word!' said Harry, by way of explanation. 'Salmonella!' he shouted again, falling off his chair in a fit of mirth.  
  
Mrs. Weasley stood over him, looking pained. 'And Lily always wanted you to be a doctor,' she said, shaking her head. Harry didn't notice. He was still wriggling happily and chortling to himself, the occasional 'SALMONELLA!' being heard, although changing slightly every time he said it.  
  
Hermione gazed over her 'Pocahontas' cup to look worriedly at Ron. 'I'm sure he wasn't saying 'Sally's mother' to begin with,' she said. 'I've heard goldfish have a three-second memory. Maybe Harry's a bit like that.'  
  
'What?' shouted Mrs. Weasley, indignantly. 'Are you comparing HARRY POTTER to a goldfish?'  
  
Harry sat up, interested. 'To a what?' he asked, puzzled.  
  
'To a goldfish, Harry dear,' began Mrs. Weasley. 'And I must say . . .'  
  
But the Boy Who Lived interrupted her mid-sentence. 'Why?' he asked.  
  
'Goldfish have a three second memory,' said Hermione, bossily.  
  
'What do?' asked Harry, confused.  
  
'Goldfish.'  
  
'What do they have?'  
  
'A three second memory.'  
  
'What do?'  
  
'Goldfish.'  
  
'What do they have?'  
  
'A three second memory.'  
  
'What do?'  
  
'Goldfish.'  
  
'What do they have?'  
  
'A three second memory.'  
  
'What do?'  
  
'Do you get the feeling I'm repeating myself?' asked Hermione, looking pointedly at Ron.  
  
'What? What do?' asked Harry, frustrated. 'I want to KNOW. Not knowing ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me!'  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!' screamed Hermione, running.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!' shouted Ron, running.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!' shrieked Mrs. Weasley, running.  
  
So Harry Potter was left all alone in the kitchen, staring placidly at his un-boiled egg. There was a moment's pause. Then, 'Hello,' said Harry, quietly to the egg. Unsurprisingly, the egg didn't reply. 'Oh,' said Harry. Then, 'Are you shy?' he asked it. No response. 'Oh. I'm a bit shy too when I'm talking to strangers. I'm Harry.' Our hero held out his hand to shake hands with the egg. Unfortunately it didn't seem to have a hand. Not easily put off, Harry just picked it up and shook the whole thing instead. In for a penny, in for a pound. The egg remained unresponsive. Harry was just about to start crying at this rude behaviour, when Pig flapped in, carrying something that smelt suspiciously as if it was burning.  
  
Something suspiciously red. Something suspiciously smoking. (Have you guessed it yet?!). Harry stared at the letter, wondering what it was. When it started to shout.  
  
'OHHHHHHHHHHHHH!' (Comprehension was dawning at last). 'It's a HOOOOOOOOWLER!'  
  
This letter, however, started off surprisingly quietly.  
  
'I'm sorry, Harry, I wish I felt the same way, I really do, but YOU DISGUST ME!!!!!!! KEEP AWAY FROM ME!!! KEEP YOUR SICK LITTLE FANTASIES TO YOURSELF! NEVER SEND ME ANY MORE PINK CORRESPONDENCE!!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WERE THINKING OF! (Or, in the words of harrypotter.com, which has NO INFORMATION WHATSOEVER on the fifth book, 'WHAT *WERE* YOU THINKING OF?') STAY AWAY FROM ME! NEVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN! I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REEEEEEEEEEEEEALLY HOPE THAT WAS A MISTAKE HARRY. IF NOT, SORRY TO DISAPPOINT YOU AND ALL THAT, BUT YOU HAVE *NO CHANCE WHATSOEVER*! I'M A DARK LORD! WATCH A FEW FILMS! ALL THE MOST ATTRACTIVE PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS ON THE DARK SIDE ANYWAY! AND EVEN IF THEY WEREN'T, I'M SORRY BUT I WOULDN'T WANT A STUNTED ACNE-COVERED *FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD* BOY, WHO ALSO HAPPENS TO BE MY ARCH-ENEMY!'  
  
Harry turned to look in a mirror. 'I DO NOT have acne!' he shouted. The mirror cracked. Harry toddled off into Fred and George's bedroom. 'What's acne?' he asked, bemusedly. The twins had unfortunately already evacuated the Burrow, so he didn't get an answer. He mentally put it down on his list of things to ask Hermione next time he saw her. Though for a brain with clearly so little else in it to clutter it up, it was surprising how many important things got lost this way. Someone had once kindly given him a load of Post-it notes to combat this problem. Which would have been really good. If Harry had been able to write. Still they weren't without their uses, Harry had spent many a happy day covering himself in fluorescent Post- its. Anyway, when he got back to his bedroom, the Howler was still going strong.  
  
'I KNOW I TOOK A BLOOD SAMPLE AND ALL THAT IN THE SUMMER TERM AT THAT STUPID TOURNAMENT, BUT THAT WAS SO I COULD BE REBORN. *REBORN* YOU FOOL! NOT BECAUSE I WANTED ANYTHING OF YOURS! AND ALL THAT STROKING YOUR SCAR WHILE YOU WERE TIED TO A GRAVESTONE WAS *EVIL TRIUMPHANT BEHAVIOUR*! I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT I IN NO WAY WANTED TO TOUCH YOU! BELIEVE ME! I DON'T WANT YOU HARRY! I NEVER WANTED YOU! I WANTED YOU *DEAD*. I STILL WANT YOU DEAD! I WANT YOU OUT OF THE WAY, AND I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN! AND I NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER WANT ANOTHER SINGING LOVE LETTER! EVER!'  
  
And for a grand finale, there was a loud rendition of 'BOB THE BUILDER!', 'ROSIE AND JIM', and, just for variety, 'TINKY-WINKY, DIPSY, LA-LA, PO!' before, with a final scream and evil cackle, the letter burst into flame and crumbled away.  
  
Ron and Hermione, who had bravely entered the room a few seconds earlier, looked worriedly at Harry. After a rather long pause, Ron, after being repeatedly nudged by Hermione, walked towards Harry.  
  
'I'm sorry, mate,' he said in what he considered to be quite a macho yet companionable voice. Harry looked up at him, bewildered. Hermione kicked Ron. 'OW! I mean . . . I'm sorry they didn't feel the same way, Harry. Bad luck.' Ron retreated hastily.  
  
Harry looked at him, completely nonplussed. 'What?' he asked. 'Who doesn't feel the same way?'  
  
Ron looked deeply embarrassed. 'Um, whoever that was . . . who sent the Howler.'  
  
'What, Voldemort?'  
  
Ron winced. Then screamed. 'YOU SENT A PINK LETTER TO *VOLDEMORT*? Why, Harry? Why? Whatever possessed you?'  
  
'No, a Howler,' said our hero, his innocent little emerald green eyes looking endearingly (if you like the helpless, brain-dead kind) into Ron's.  
  
Hermione started laughing madly. Harry and Ron both looked at her. The giggling eventually subsided. 'You sent him a PINK LETTER! Instead of a Howler! A PINK LETTER!'  
  
'Don't laugh at me like that!' shouted Harry, hurt. 'It really really ANNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me.'  
  
Ron and Hermione screamed and fell down on the floor, covering their ears.  
  
'Anyway, what does a pink letter DO?' asked Harry.  
  
'Erm . . .' began Hermione, going very red.  
  
'Erm . . .' began Ron, turning tomato-coloured.  
  
'Erm . . .' said two twin voices through the keyhole.  
  
'FRED! GEORGE!' bellowed Ron, sounding rather squashed. 'Stop spying on us!!!'  
  
'Sorry,' said Fred. 'But we'd miss a lot if we didn't.'  
  
'Like we didn't know that Harry fancied You-Know-Who, for example.' Completed George, helpfully.  
  
'But I don't . . .' began Harry, very bewildered.  
  
'And anyway,' cut in Fred. 'We like hanging around Harry cos if we do he might give us more money.'  
  
Hermione looked at the twins sternly over the top of Ron, on whom she had fallen. 'You've already conned the poor kid into giving you a thousand galleons. Isn't that enough?'  
  
Fred opened his mouth to argue, but Harry cut in, 'I wasn't conned. And I'm not a poor kid!'  
  
'So young,' said George, shaking his head. 'So very young.'  
  
'Anyway, what ARE pink letters for?' asked Harry again.  
  
'Erm . . . they kind of . . . show affection . . .' began Hermione.  
  
'Ohhhhhhhhh,' said Harry. 'They're NAUGHTY letters! But anyway, I sent a red letter, not a pink one.'  
  
There was a momentary pause. Then Hermione, taking a fluffy pink biro out of her pocket, said, 'What colour is this, Harry?'  
  
'Erm . . .' began Harry, eloquently. Then, after a few seconds pause, the decisive, 'Red.'  
  
'No, Harry,' said Hermione, kindly. 'Actually it's pink.' Beside her the twins were cracking up.  
  
'Oh,' said Harry, crestfallen. 'It's just that the colours are quite difficult aren't they? And pink's not one of the *main* colours. Pink's a *girly* colour anyway.'  
  
Ron interrupted by making a loud spluttering noise from underneath Hermione. She clambered off him, looking at him concernedly. 'What's wrong, Ron?' she asked.  
  
'Nothing!' said Ron, a bit too quickly.  
  
Fred sighed heavily. 'Ron's a bit squashed.'  
  
'Squashed?' said Hermione, running a hand through her very bushy hair. It got stuck halfway through. 'What by?' she completed, one hand still stuck in her hair.  
  
'You,' said Harry, perceptively (for once), his glasses once again thrust up his nostrils.  
  
There was a moment's pause. Then, 'Doesn't that hurt?' asked George, looking pointedly at Hermione's hand, which was still stuck. Hermione had been trying to pull it out inconspicuously and failing miserably.  
  
'OUCH!!!' shrieked Hermione, before adding an extremely unconvincing, 'No. It doesn't hurt.'  
  
'Looks like a job for the Weasleymeister!' shouted Fred, gleefully.  
  
'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' shouted Hermione. 'I don't want you anywhere near my hair!'  
  
'That isn't what we meant . . .' began George, whilst Ron began to say simultaneously, 'Not even ME?' in a very pointed voice. However they were both interrupted by a very large and very fast-moving red-haired woman shooting through the door.  
  
'Did I hear my name?' she called.  
  
'YES!' shouted Fred and George.  
  
'I can't hear you!' shouted the Weasleymeister herself. 'I said DID I HEAR MY NAME?'  
  
'YES!' shouted Fred and George and Ron.  
  
'*DID I HEAR MY NAME*?' she bellowed once more. There was a momentary silence. In Africa, a few elephants were deafened. Across the world, a few bats died of shock. Inside the Burrow, the humans were beginning to recover. Then . . .  
  
'YEEEEEEEEEEEES!' bellowed Fred and George and Ron, and, five minutes later, Harry.  
  
'What's the problem?' asked Mrs. Weasley, briskly.  
  
'Hermione needs a haircut.' Shouted George.  
  
'So I see,' said Mrs. Weasley, advancing slowly.  
  
'NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' screamed Hermione, writhing on the floor. 'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'  
  
But in spite of all the screaming, Mrs. Weasley advanced, relentless, and a pair of garden shears appeared in her hand. Hermione collapsed, unconscious.  
  
And when she woke up, five minutes later, she was bald.  
  
  
  
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease review! I hope the chapters will improve after this one, it was quite hard to write cos I've been thinking too hard recently. I'll probably update in the Christmas holidays if anyone is interested. But in the meantime, pleeeeeeease review! Please! ( 


	8. Bald is Better

Disclaimer: Harry and co. still belong to J. K. Rowling (but not for long . . . mwah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha).  
  
A/N: Hello again! Have a joyful life and I hope you like this chapter! Book 5 spoiler.  
  
Chapter 8: Bald is Better  
  
Harry Potter woke up the next morning with an irritating niggling feeling in the back of his mind. Apart from that his mind wasn't very deep, so the feeling was, to be more accurate, resting on the middle of his two- dimensional consciousness. He was sure that the person who had just stumbled into his room hadn't been quite so . . . what was the word? Well, most normal people would say pink, but our severely mentally challenged hero came out with . . .  
  
'Red. Red red red.' Which would have been quite justifiable if the early morning visitor had been a Weasley. But unfortunately for poor little Harry, it was Hermione, minus the hair, and she was in a very bad mood indeed.  
  
'I'll kill you!' she screeched, launching herself on top of Harry. If she had stayed there, she would probably have done the job quite nicely, as Harry was a little stunted shrimp of a boy, and no-one could survive for very long under Hermione's bulk. Although, to be fair, the lack of hair did mean that she was several pounds lighter than previously. However, she had just specially filed her nails to points for maximum scratching power, and she was going to use them.  
  
Well, she would have done. If Mrs. Weasley hadn't rushed in from degnoming the garden, equipped with large garden gnome, worried that Hermione was going to carry out her threat on the poor little Boy Who Lived. 'Stop it!' she screamed at the bald and shiny Hermione.  
  
Simultaneously, Harry was screaming. 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHH! GNOME! AAAAARRGGH!'  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked completely nonplussed. Then she remembered that she was holding a large and particularly fine specimen. And that Harry had a phobia of gnomes. 'Oh, sorry Harry dear!' she said, sounding extremely flustered and dragging Hermione out of the room along with the gnome.  
  
'Hermione tried to kill me!' bellowed Harry at Mrs. Weasley, although still cowering behind the door in fear of the gnome. 'She really ANNNNOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYS me!'  
  
'AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!' screamed Hermione, falling to the floor and covering her ears more quickly than usual as the air resistance against her massive amount of bushy hair had previously made her fall, à la Snuffles, in a graceful but extremely slow arc to the floor.  
  
'AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!' cried Ron, stumbling out of bed and writhing on the floor of his violently orange bedroom.  
  
'AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!' shouted Mrs. Weasley falling down whilst simultaneously killing all bats within a 15km radius of the Burrow. Well, the few that were left.  
  
'AAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHH!' screamed Fred and George, in unnaturally high and girly voices. Having been wearing Extendable Ears at the time, the painful effect of the sentence was doubled.  
  
'Why do you always keep on screaming?' asked Harry, peevishly. 'Don't you know that it really ANNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYS me?'  
  
Everybody once again screamed and ran for cover in the garden. Our little hero shrugged and pootled off to fetch (guess what?) another Howler.  
  
Meanwhile outside in the garden, an emergency council was taking place.  
  
'We really really have to do something about Harry,' began Hermione, her deeply earnest look not working as well as usual since the loss of her hair. 'He's beginning to really ANNOOOOY me.'  
  
Everyone winced, but only Ron screamed. Hermione gave him a deeply patronising look, which REALLY didn't go with her lack of hair, and continued. 'We have a gnome,' she began, leading them to the garage and showing them the gnome that her and Ron had imprisoned a while back in the boot of Mr. Weasley's car. She looked at it clinically and picked it up, ignoring the cries of 'Gerroff me!' She then replaced it and slammed the boot shut.  
  
Fred looked rather sick. 'Hermione,' he began, 'how come you like house- elves so much but you're so mean to that gnome.'  
  
Hermione snorted at the boot of the car and an evil and mad glint came into her eyes. 'I use S.P.E.W. as a cover up so people won't notice my sadistic behaviour towards gnomes. I mean, why do you think I bought Crookshanks? I hate animals. Well, then I wanted to ANNOY Harry (everyone cringed) as well.' She smiled malevolently at the car. 'One day soon that little gnome is going to die. Mwah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!'  
  
Ron, Fred and George all looked really freaked out. George bolted. Fred bolted. Ron looked extremely scared, took a deep breath, and finally decided Fred and George had the right answer to this little problem and ran away too.  
  
Hermione called after him. 'If you run away, Ron, you'll miss out,' she said in her most seductive and wonderfully husky voice. Unfortunately, Ron seemed to be quite a shallow little person and seeing as Hermione's thick though bushy hair had been a rather major contributor to her looks, he was no longer interested - just fearful.  
  
Meanwhile, in the Burrow, Harry Potter was selecting another envelope. Luckily, all the pink envelopes had been used up by Mrs. Weasley (*ahem* Lockhart *ahem*). And even Harry, thick as he was, could tell the difference between white and red (fortunately they didn't have any brown envelopes to complicate things - the Weasleys, judging by Mrs. Weasley's bat-killing tendencies, were not Friends of the Environment and therefore didn't buy envelopes made from recycled paper). He carefully picked out a bright red one and toddled up to Ron's room.  
  
He began the Howler with the usual scream. 'AAAAAAAAARRGGH! I HATE YOU! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOY ME!'  
  
Ron chose this moment to wander in, still wearing his violently orange pyjamas. This distracted Harry somewhat. 'But those are RED!' he shouted, happily. Ron looked like he was about to protest, but, on second thoughts decided to keep quiet, consequently looking rather like a goldfish.  
  
Hermione bustled in, wearing a massive headscarf and looking irritated. 'Honestly, Ron, he's not going to learn his colours if you keep on confusing him.'  
  
The Howler sat by, innocently recording this conservation, before, with a sudden jolt, Harry's brain sprang into action for a few milliseconds and he remembered what he was doing. 'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHH!' he shrieked, right next to Hermione's ear, which, without the hair, was less sheltered than usual. She screamed and fell to the floor, clutching her ear. Ron mistook the meaning of her sudden descent and somehow thought it appropriate to deliberately throw himself on top on her, whispering 'Ooh, Hermy,' as he did so. It seemed that to desperate little Ron, hair didn't matter anymore. Or maybe the headscarf was an adequate replacement.  
  
'EWW! RON!' shrieked Hermione, shoving him off her. Ron looked rather hurt.  
  
'EWW! RON!' shouted two twin voices from right outside the bedroom door.  
  
'FRED! GEORGE!' shouted Ron.  
  
'That's my name, don't wear it out,' said George, winking at Hermione in a somewhat worrying fashion.  
  
'Stop spying on us!' shouted Hermione, unimpressed. 'And Harry's not going to give you any more money, he's lost the key to his vault and he's forgotten his PIN' (OK, I don't know whether Gringotts does PINs or not, but who cares?).  
  
'Hmmm . . .' said Fred, staring at Hermione in mock thoughtfulness. 'I wonder what it could be?'  
  
'Hmmm . . .' said George, 'maybe one, two, three, four, six? Sound right Fred?'  
  
'Sounds good to me.'  
  
'One, two, three, four, six?' asked Hermione, looking puzzled. 'Why?'  
  
'Well, the first is simple,' said George, looking wise. 'The most stupid people always have 12345 as their PIN, don't they?' (sorry to anyone who might have that number!).  
  
'If you say so . . .' said Hermione. 'But one, two, three, four, six? Are you sure you haven't been spying on him?'  
  
'Harry!' shouted Fred. 'Can you count for me please?'  
  
Harry's face lit up with a heavenly smile. He LOVED showing off his maths skills. He stuck his hands out in front of him, folding down a finger for each number as he began. 'One . . .' was the first word to roll out of the mouth of our hero. Then, after a short pause, 'two . . .'. A bit longer. And a bit longer. Then 'three . . .'. Then a long pause. 'Erm . . . four.' Then finally, the triumphant, 'Six.'  
  
'Oh, help!' said our very logical Hermione, banging her head against the floor. Ron unfortunately somewhat mistook this too, and manoeuvered his head to rest underneath Hermione's (it could have been worse!). Her head smashed right into his, giving him a violent nosebleed.  
  
'OWWWWWWWWW!' yowled Ron. 'OWWWWWWWWWW!'  
  
'Sorry, Ron,' began Hermione, before asking, 'Why did you move your head there anyway?'  
  
Ron didn't seem to keen to answer that one. But finally decided to say, in his most seductive voice, 'Don't worry, you can make it up to me, Hermione.'  
  
'EWWWWWWWW, RON!' shouted both Fred and George. And after a five minute pause, Harry added his voice to the protesting throng.  
  
Hermione didn't seem too disgusted though. She rolled nearer to him and put her hand gently on his arm. 'How could I do that, Ron?' she asked, in an even sexier voice. Ron seemed to be so overwhelmed by his success that he couldn't reply. Instead a manic grin covered his face and he rolled her (with some difficulty), underneath his bed, and presumably began to indicate how she could begin to make amends (nothing dodgy, people, this is a PG or something!).  
  
Then, fortunately, Harry once again noticed the red envelope and rather spoilt Ron and Hermione's romantic little moment by screaming loudly. Fred and George looked at the Howler as well. 'Is that to You-Know-Who?' Fred asked his twin.  
  
'I think so . . .' answered George.  
  
'But then won't You-Know-Who know Harry's PIN?'  
  
'Don't worry, Fred, we took out most of the money ages ago anyway.'  
  
Fred shrugged and followed George out of the violently orange bedroom. Ron and Hermione extracted themselves with some difficulty from underneath the bed. Ron's hair looked rather messed-up and Hermione's headscarf was askew. She quickly straightened it. Ron looked dazed, until, putting a hand to his hair, he found a rather . . . unwelcome creature.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAARRGGH! SPIDER! AAAAAAAAARRRGH!' he screamed. Hermione flicked it off him . . . unfortunately onto Harry.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAARRGGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGH!' shouted Harry.  
  
Hermione looked confused. 'Harry, you're not even scared of spiders,' she began, before sighing and carrying it outside ('Not near ME!') and flicking it into the hallway, nonchalantly. She then returned, grabbed hold of Ron's arm and steered him out of the bedroom, with a murmured, 'Lets find somewhere quieter, shall we?' Ron agreed without protest, leaving Harry alone in the bedroom.  
  
Was this wise? Well, Harry wasn't really strong enough to do anything really dangerous or destructive. He spent about five minutes hopping trying to copy the big green toad sitting in the water tank in Ron's room. He spent about ten minutes trying to read the word 'Martin' on the cover of Ron's Mad Muggle comics. He spent about fifteen minutes trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing. Then he noticed (again!) the Howler.  
  
'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGGGH! I HATE YOU! BOB CAN ALWAYS FIX IT! ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS! STAY AWAY FROM ME AND STAY AWAY FROM BOB! HE DOESN'T NEED TO FIX MY BRAIN! WHAT IS A BRAIN ANYWAY? I BET YOU JUST MADE THAT WORD UP. YOU'RE MEAN AND EVIL AND I HAAAATE YOU! YOU ANNOOOOOOOOOOY ME! NO-ONE LIKES YOU! EVERYONE HATES YOU, YOU SHOULD GO AND EAT WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRMMMMMMMS! BIG FAT SQUIDGY ONES, LITTLE THIN WRIGGLY ONES, SEE HOW THEY WRIGGLE AND SQQQQUUUIIIIIRRRRM.'  
  
In the happiness of singing a song, Harry forgot what he was doing. He sat happily humming to himself and dancing a little dance. Anyone trying to work out *what* he was singing would have had difficulty, seeing as he couldn't remember many of the words and had extremely poor tuning. But, fortunately, no-one was there to spoil Harry's joy. He blinked happily to himself and closed the Howler absent-mindedly. He then addressed it. He once again tried to spell 'Voldemort', but it was a three-syllable word, and he just couldn't get it to look right. He tried to write 'Tom Riddle', but that wasn't easy either. He finally settled for a word which, courtesy of Dudley, who had an irritating penchant for spelling out words before he bellowed them at Harry, he could spell. Consequently, the envelope which winged its way into the sky, tied to Pig's leg, a few minutes later, read, 'Vlodemorte, Voledmort, Ttom Ridell,' and finally, in massive, bold black capitals, 'LOSER.'  
  
In the garden below, Ron and Hermione were too . . . busy to notice the Howler flying to Lord Voldemort. And Mrs. Weasley was too busy scolding Fred and George to observe it. Consequently, only Harry knew about the Howler. And now Voldemort knew his PIN.  
  
However, Harry's knowledge of the Howler didn't last long. He couldn't really be expected to remember things for more than a minute - it just wasn't fair, really. So he sneaked into the garden, and turning towards the bench, noticed something . . . unusual, went to investigate, and ended this chapter with:  
  
'EEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! RON!'  
  
A/N: Hope you liked this! Sorry about the massive wait, my GCSEs got in the way and saw fit to annoy me for about a year. Pleeeeease review! Hope you are having a lovely day! ( 


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